It Will End Like This
by Datchcole
Summary: Perhaps Fitzpatrick will have a different ending.


"Now, I haven't seen a sign of real life down hear in months" The same man who had closed of the blathysphere spoke again.

"Let's _see_...if you're just another junkie" . Jack groaned at the words. This was once again probably another psycho, the underwater city certainly wasn't in short supply. Of course he had began to figure that if he was dealing with anyone at all in Rapture, they couldn't be called a member of a sane society. Well, perhaps Atlas was the exception. The absence of his voice was powerful.

Jack couldn't be sure of how he had taken care of the splicers it seemed the man, who introduced himself as Sander Cohen, had sent after him. With the coupling of little rest and constant anxiety, the addition of electrified wires had seemed heavily not in his favor. He still acted as fast as he could, whipping out a pistol and shooting down the splicers that he had not managed to lure into the wires meant for him.

He collected what supplies he could from the deceased, all the while to the tune of Cohen's peculiar compliments.

"Come in. Come in! Sander Cohen awaits you at the Fleet Hall" Jack figured his banging the wrench on the door had in someway made the man open the doors faster.

Jack had to admit that Fort Frolic seemed to be one of the more...aesthetically pleasing of the areas he had had the privilege of visiting so far. Past a few more sets of slot machines was a stage, with plaster figures set upon it. Eyeing the figures with suspicion he averted his eyes upward. There was a see-through ceiling where he could see the tops of the underwater skyscrapers. The neon signs that were prevalent shone different colors upon its surface. A crack in the dome led to water dripping down the carpeted staircase that stood at the center of the area.

Climbing up the stairs Cohen's voice could be heard from his radio, echoing.

"Welcome to Fort Frolic!"

Jack figured by now any welcome was a bad thing.

Straight up from the staircase was the bright neon sign 'Fleet Hall'. Couldn't be more clear than that. And then...a second sign 'Fleet Hall'.

'Wouldn't want people getting lost' Jack though humorously.

"No need to thank me for jamming the transmissions of those bores Atlas and Ryan" Though their voices were gone Cohen's seemed almost inescapable...a familiar feeling?

Jack turned the corner and a security camera's wail was there to greet him. He started and retreated back, no longer in view. He readied Electro Bolt, took a breath and turned to zap it.

"I test you..."

Jack ran, his time was limited.

"I test all my disciples..."

He reached for the camera and like so many times before began to rearrange the pipes, always checking the progress of the fluid.

"Some shine like galaxies...and some, some _burn_, like a moth at a flame. Come now, into my home, little moth"

It was close, maybe a few seconds to spare. Not that it was difficult, but this man, Cohen, not only seemed to like talking, but his wording was a bit...eccentric. With the turret glowing a friendly green Jack continued on . It was one of those elevators that greeted him. He pressed the down button which dinged in response. The response to that however was unfortunately less helpful. So it seemed Cohen wanted to test him again. This set of splicers were easier to take care of. A combination of the old Electro Bolt combined with machine gun fire to the face took them out quickly enough.

Jack eyed one of the downed splicer's pockets warily. "Cake?" he questioned. 'No'. He shook his head. 'Probably not worth it'.

He entered the elevator, pressed the button in the back, and began to ascend.

"No, No, No" An aggravated voice? Cohen? It wasn't coming from his radio. The elevator doors opened and he was greeted with music. The piano. It sounded wonderful.

"Silence"

Cohen didn't seem to agree. Past a set of opening doors he entered a large theatre. A few seats were filled with those plaster figures, the eerie ones. Spotlights centered on points of interest. t the points being the concerning audience and a man, a splicer, playing the aforementioned piano. Jack descended the middle walkway, approaching the figure.

"What the hell..."he said aloud. The piano was covered in almost comical bright red dynamite.

"Presto! Presto! No. No. Noooo!"

The man playing...his legs were chained to the seat. 'Cohen must have set him up here' Jack thought, 'but why?'

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" he seemed on the verge of tears. "Pleeeaassse"

Jack was startled.

The man took notice of him. "_Please_. Help me!" He looked to Jack through a splicer mask. "He'll /kill/ me!"

'Save him? I...I did save others. But they were...'

Snapping out of his surprised daze and without thinking beyond that he activated Winter Blast, freezing the dynamite. He heaved himself up onto the stage, ignoring the sudden rage filled voice of Cohen. Cohen's disciple was watching him fearfully. Jack met his eyes.

"You might feel this" Jack commented offhandedly. He froze the two shackles pinning the other's legs, raised his wrench and brought it swiftly down on the first one; then the second. They both shattered and the disciple toppled from his seat.

A flash of petals and a man suddenly appeared in front of Jack, Cohen.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing little moth! Fitzpatrick was to become art, and you ruined it!"

Jack raised his wrench in defense. The disciple, Fitzpatrick stood up shakily. "Cohen you sick fuck! You were gonna kill me!"

Cohen ignored him. "I thought I might have found something different in you, but even I can be wrong. Find _comfort_ that you will be implemented into my masterpiece"

"Run!" Jack shouted. He hastily jumped away and off the stage, looking back to see Fitzpatrick following, and Cohen in pursuit. Only luck made it so Cohen's blasts of fire barely missed the two as they fled up to the entrance. They disappeared around the bend. "What are we gonna do kid? The only way back to the entrance is the elevator" Jack huffed. The elevator was before them, daunting.

Jack turned to him. "I'll find a way to impair him. You take the elevator"

Fitzpatrick seemed to sadden. "Kid...", he looked to the elevator and then back. "I'll go but, I'm not in the business of leavin' someone who saved my life. I'll see you up top"

"Yeah" Jack smiled a bit at that. This seemed to be a man worth saving. Jack was glad he could attribute himself to being the trusting type.

"See you up top"

* * *

A/N : I hope this was alright. It'll only be about two or three chapters. I seemed to have, without planning to, added humor. Ah well. Reviews would be awesome!


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